


Dear H

by StarryScar



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Romance, Smut, Sweet, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 06:26:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3239666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryScar/pseuds/StarryScar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harry meets Ella, she’s just a crippled paper forgotten on a bench, ink full of thoughts and secrets, protected by anonymity. When Ella meets Harry, he already knows more about her than anyone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It all begins

The day Ella decided to write her first letter, she was sitting on a bench and the sun was shining above her. However, things were different inside her pretty little head, a storm brewing in her, threatening to drown the garden she had grown with so much effort. It happened from time to time. The garden grew back every time, but it never got easier.

Her position allowed her to observe the people running around campus, the laughing friends; the desperate student trying to learn in 5 minutes what he had 2 weeks to do so; the girl running late to her class, knowing the professor was not going to let her in; the music student, scratching his head and scribbling down on a paper, most likely trying to come up with decent lyrics for the tune that had been playing in his head night after night, not letting him sleep.

She was tapping her fingers on her notebook, desperate to let it all out, to have an outlet for the feelings that were starting to eat her inside, so she could go on with her life, so she could muster a smile and tell everybody that everything was great without the stabs from the lies.

So she started, ripping a page from her notebook and taking her purple pen, sighing deeply before writing the first letter in her neat handwriting.

”Dear anybody,

I hope everything is okay with you. I hope wherever you are the sun is shining for you. I hope you can hear birds and see playful kids around you (if that is your kind of thing). I also hope you are enjoying a delicious chocolate ice cream (Is chocolate your favorite? it is mine. If it’s not, I apologize, we’ll have to discuss your taste later. I’m sure I can convince you to really appreciate the Gods’ gift’s flavor.)

I am sorry to burden you, but I need to tell you some things about me…..”

*****

\- Harry -

It was one hell of a bright day. In other circumstances I’d be grateful I could just sit on a bench and soak myself in the sun, taking advantage of the weather, trying to get a little tanner, let the breeze cool my skin, and just sit there with my glasses on and my legs stretched out, catching up on some sleep. 

Today, however, was not one of those days. It had been hectic, running like a mad person trying to get to my English Literature class on time, barely making it before Professor Green, just in time for the first pop quiz; trying not to fall asleep on his drowsy voice; going to one place to the other trying to get books and information for a project I needed to work on. It was only first week and I already felt tired, wondering just how long it was until the break. 

After carrying kegs and bottles and bottles of alcohol to the house in preparation for the party tonight, Niall and I had decided to go for a much needed coffee, walking to the coffeehouse that was closest to the frat house.

"Fucking hell, I’m tired." Niall groaned before he sat on a rusty bench that was in the middle of a pat, still holding the tall paper cup in his hands. In front of us, sitting everywhere on the grass were students in their little cliques, going on about their lives. He plopped down, his legs stretched out in front of him, and his dark ray bans already sitting on his nose, covering his eyes from the sun.

"Bro, we walked like 15 minutes." I laughed at his lazy ass, paying attention to the people around us. I was honestly ready to go to sleep any minute, even when it was only 4 p.m. on a Friday. I had barely slept last night, I had…company in my room, and after that, the noises coming from the living room, where Louis and Niall where playing a match of FIFA were enough to keep me awake, even if I lived 6 buildings away. Sometimes I hated that damn frat house.

I noticed a girl sitting on the grass with her back leaning on a tree, a book propped up on her legs, her dark jeans showing darker spots where the water from the soil had stained them. She was furrowing her eyebrows and her lips were moving almost as if she was mouthing the words she was reading, a slight pout on her pink lips. Her mint green converses were what had caught my attention, knowing I had seen them just this morning, when I dropped my binder to the floor and someone with the same shoes had stopped on their way to their seat to grab it, never giving me an actual chance to see their face. I noticed the girl flicking her eyes to where we were sitting, a worried expression on her face when she chewed her bottom lip, not really paying attention to us.

"Styles." I heard Niall say at the same time his right hand was slapping me in the back of my head. "Pay attention to me." I turned my body to face him, rubbing my head a little, noticing it was the same spot where Louis had hit me with a ball just last week. "Louis is asking if we want to go and play footie before the party." 

"I don’t know, mate. last time I almost didn’t make it out alive." I winced, still remembering the stars and little birds that had formed in front of my eyes when Louis had accidentally, or so I hoped, hit me with the ball.

"That’s because you suck." Niall laughed. "I’ve been thinking and what you have to do is…." I honestly stopped paying attention to him, noticing a while slip of paper tucked inside a pot standing behind Niall’s back. He stopped talking, turning slightly on the bench to see what the hell was I watching. I stretched my arm, almost reaching the paper when Niall’s hand came down, slapping it away.

"The fuck?" I asked him, my eyes quickly leaving his to focus again on the paper.

"Jesus, Harold, didn’t Anne teach you not to grab random stuff from the street?" He asked in his thick accent, but before he could react I grabbed the slip of paper between my fingers, unfolding it and seeing it was a letter. The ink was purple, shining brightly on the white paper, and the handwriting was neat and girly. I wish I could find notes this neat for when I skipped or fall asleep in class, instead I had to settle with Louis or Niall’s half notes, with their choppy handwriting. Zayn was my better choice, but he always fell asleep during class; I noticed that in some parts, the ink was smeared and faded, almost as if someone had cried on it before it could dry. 

I noticed Niall’s eyes on me, and I rose my eyes to see him shaking his head and getting up from the bench. 

"I’ll see you back in the house. I’m going to play footie." He told me before he walked away. I looked to the ground for a couple of seconds, wondering if I should read the letter. It didn’t seem right, for some reason, knowing it wasn’t addressed to me, but at the same time, I couldn’t just drop it, leaving it on the same pot I had found it, and walking away to play football with my friends, risking a head injury.

I bit my lip, sighing before focusing my eyes on the letter and starting to read. What the hell, I already had it in my hands. The damage was already done.

”Dear anybody,

I hope everything is ok with you. I hope wherever you are the sun is shining for you. I hope you can hear birds and see playful kids around you (if that is your kind of thing). I also hope you are enjoying a delicious chocolate ice cream (Is chocolate your favorite? it is mine. If it’s not, I apologize, we’ll have to discuss your taste later. I’m sure I can convince you to really appreciate the Gods’ gift’s flavor.)

I am sorry to burden you, but I need to tell you some things about me. This may sound ridiculous, you know, me leaving a letter about how hard my life is, especially when it really isn’t, but I feel like I’m going to explode otherwise.

Have you ever felt like that? Like everything in your life is going so awfully wrong? Like you could disappear any minute and maybe people just won’t care? Like you’re not where you’re supposed to be? Maybe you’re not smart or special enough, even when you’ve always doubted just how smart and special you really are. I don’t know, I’m rambling right now. 

I just feel the need to scream and maybe cry a little. Throw something to the wall. Yeah, that’d be nice. Maybe it’s just the change, you know. Coming here and leaving my home behind. I’ve never been so good with change, it makes my chest hurt. Maybe it’s not knowing what on earth I’m supposed to do. Should I pick a major? Should I just drop out and go travel the world? My dad would probably have a heart attack. 

Sometimes I find myself walking around, watching the people around me laughing and having fun. It seems so simple, and sometimes I can do just that, you know? Walk around with my friends, laughing loudly of some joke one of them just told (I don’t really tell jokes, it’s impossible for me). In the two weeks I’ve been here, I’ve even gone for short walks with my roommate, Sophie, a little ball of energy that gets me tired just by looking at her. Cute girl she is.

But I think I’ll be lying if I say that’s me, the bubbly girl that smiles all the time. My mom has always worried about that, telling me I always look bored, that is hard to keep up with my sarcasm when my voice always sounds as if I was mocking the world without it noticing. It’s not like I can change that, you know?

The nights are sometimes hard, looking up to the ceiling while Sophie’s snores fill the room, tossing around and reading on my iPad until I only have 3 hours to sleep before I have to get up to class. I really hate silence, it allows my brain to think, and the pressure on my chest to tighten. I wish Sophie could snore a little louder, or that I could do what I did at home, the TV on all night and the music loud on the headphones, so I wouldn’t have to be in a quiet room.

I don’t really know why I’m doing this, this is all a little bit ridiculous if you ask me, writing this letter to who knows who, but I felt it was something I needed to do. I hope you are good with secrets, and I apologize, I know just how hard it’s to keep secrets that are not our own. It’s a good thing you don’t know who I am, I guess, then, you’ll be able to pass by me without wondering if I was able to sleep at night. I wish I could share a chocolate ice cream with you. It’d be nice, I’m always thinking about chocolate. 

I’m gonna go now. I have to go read a ton to my class tomorrow. I’ve been told the professor loves pop quizzes on the first class, what kind of professor does that? I’ll let you know how it goes.

Now, I don’t really know how to do this, so bye, I guess. Thank you for listening, or reading, I hope I can do the same for you one day. Or no, you know, I hope you don’t need this, I hope you’re a happy person. I think you deserve that. 

So, yeah, I’m gonna go now. Remember, chocolate, go and have an ice cream in my honor.

\- E -“

I folded the letter back to the little square it was before I took it, and dove in my backpack, looking for a pen. I didn’t know if E was going to be back for her letter (I figured E was a girl, okay?), but I thought it wouldn’t hurt to try it.

I fumbled around until I found a blue pen, without a cap, of course, and rested the paper on my thighs, looking for support while I wrote. With quick strokes, I left her a message, tucking the letter back to its original position and getting up to walk to the football field. 

Halfway there, I realized just how stupid I was, embarrassed that she might actually find the letter and read my message. I almost turned around and went to retrieve the paper, but the chances were slim, this was a one time thing only.

"I actually prefer vanilla, we’ll have to see about chocolate. Hang in there. - H -"


	2. The Second Letter

Ella felt as if she had done something stupid. She shouldn't have left that letter, she shouldn't have written those things. What if someone read it? What if someone could trace it back to her? She shouldn't have done it.

She was worried, every time she saw someone sitting on the bench that was right next to the pot where she had tucked the piece of white paper, her stomach tightened and her heart leaped in its place. Someone was going to found it and that someone was bound to think she was pathetic. And maybe there were right.

Looking out of the window, she couldn't stop thinking. That was the problem, actually, her mind was always racing, always thinking, always making scenarios. From now on, every whisper on the hallways, every misplaced laughter, every group conversation was going to be about her. Even if it wasn't, even if people was just moving on with their lives, completely unaware of her presence, or even her existence, Ella's mind had a funny way of working. 

She looked to the front of the classroom, Mr. Woods words long lost for her, but she couldn't help but squint her eyes, focusing on the little man wearing a green vest that stood tall (that's a way of saying, cause Mr. Woods couldn't be taller than 5´2) in the middle of the room, almost jumping in excitement during his lecture.

But as much as she thought Mr. Woods had gotten straight out of a cartoon, and that somewhere his 4 foot tall sidekick dog was missing him and looking for him, she still felt anxious. She wanted to cry and the lump in her throat was only getting bigger. Was this how people her age were supposed to feel?

According to the calculations, Mr. Woods was going to let them go in about 15 minutes, plus the 13 minutes that it would take her to get to the pot, she still had about 28 minutes of agony and anxiety ahead of her.

Almost humming, Ella took the cape of her pen to her mouth, starting to bite and chew on it while she stared out of the window. Maybe the fact that she had seen people sitting on the bench, so so so to where she had carelessly abandoned her most inner thoughts was what had her so anxious. Images of the two boys who sat on the bench while she was trying to read for Mr Woods's class under the shadow of a big tree, kept coming to her mind, tormenting her. What if one of them had seen the letter?

Ella sighed deeply, thinking about the tall, broad and frankly handsome boy that sat next to the blond. He seemed fidgety, tired and fidgety. His eyes kept wandering around and Ella's heart almost stopped when he stared at the pot, frowning as if he had seen something that caught his eyes. She wished that her roommate hadn't called her in that very minute, urging her to go back home as she had left the keys inside.

The screeches of the chairs against the floor brought her back to reality, and she blinked several times, noticing how everyone around her was getting up and out of the room, talking and laughing. Had Mr. Woods let them leave early? Checking her phone, she realized that it was the time that it was supposed to be and that she had lost 15 minutes of her life without even realizing.

Swiftly, Ella picked up her stuff, her pink notebook and purple pen, her brown bag and the bottle of water, rushing out of the classroom on her way to the bench. She could hear her heart drumming in her ears and she ducked her face a couple of times, trying to not look at anyone so no one would look at her. It was one of those things her mom hated, always telling her she was a pretty girl, that she should hold her head high and show the world those big eyes of her. It wasn't what her mind told her every time she looked at herself in the mirror.

Getting to the pot didn't take Ella 13 minutes. It took her 10 minutes and 50 seconds and maybe be it had cost her a lung, but there she was, standing next to the pot and finally able to pick up the damned piece of paper. Ella extended her hand and took it, not without checking her surroundings to see if anyone noticed the weird action. Thankfully, no one was really paying attention to her, everyone too wrapped up in her world to notice the brunette girl that appeared to be picking seeds from a pot. 

Smiling for maybe the first time since yesterday, Ella sat on the bench and unfolded the white sheet, shaking her head at the words that had been scribbled down on the paper. She had to do something about it, but for now, the fact that her words were safe from stranger's eyes was enough to lift the weight of a dead body off of her shoulders.

It almost went unnoticed. She almost threw the note on her bag and missed the note that the boy had left for her. Luckily, the irregular inked words caught her attention just in time, making her frown in bewilderment. Ella quickly unfolded the squared sheet once again and her words ran through the words, mixed feelings setting on her tummy and making it feel heavy. 

"I actually prefer vanilla, we’ll have to see about chocolate. Hang in there. - H -"

Ella cursed lowly, the words leaving a bittersweet taste in her mouth as she wasn't used to them. No, there was nothing wrong in the message, it lacked the mocking words she was expecting, the condescending advise, the annoying "I've been there and I had it much worse" words. 

H, whoever it was, had left a simple, comforting message. It was funny, how just a couple of minutes ago she felt as if she could die if someone read the letter, and now, when she had the evidence that someone had done so, she felt almost relieved, her words validated. It was a feeling that almost outweighed the uneasiness that was threatening to make her throw up.

Ella bit her lip, squinting her eyes at the sun that was shining bright above her and she sighed, taking a couple of breaths before she was actually capable of going through with her next action. She took her notebook out of her bag and after uncapping her pen, she stared at a couple that was making out on the grass in the middle of the campus. They seemed to be so into it, enjoying it without a care in the world that would stain the moment for them and she had to wonder how would it feel like, she had to feel a bit jealous, it was in her flawed nature.

Ella drummed her pen against the edge of her notebook, thinking of about 1000 ways to start her new note. Why was she leaving a new note for H, when the first one almost caused her a panic attack? There was always the possibility that someone else would find it. What if it ended up on the internet, being traced back to her? Ella bit her lips, considering carefully her choices. There were so many things that could go wrong with it all, she better not do it. 

Ella was about to cap her pen when a sudden rush of bravery ran through her body, her right hand setting itself on the paper and her fingers itching to start writing. There were very little times where Ella had felt like that, so she widened her eyes, looking at the paper as if it was some magical item, ready to change her life if she would just let it. 

"Dear H:

"I cannot believe I am going to discuss the clear superior taste of the chocolate."

After writing her first phrase, Ella's eyes raised to the sky, her eyes prickling with the tears that were already forming in her eyes. Like many times before, Ella wished to be stronger, but there she was, a vulnerable, panicky, little thing that could never even handle talking about her feelings in written. It was maybe that realization that made her sure about what she was doing, the need to prove herself wrong the strongest in her body right now.

"Thank you, H. It's funny how I'm being here thanking you and I can't even call you by your proper name. Please, don't think this is me asking for it. I actually find it comforting. Not knowing who you are, makes me feel secure. Maybe it's because I know I won't be able to know it's you if we ever cross paths, or maybe it's the other way around. Anonymity works for me. 

I'm rambling, I'm sorry. Thank you, as I was saying. I think my worst fear was anyone reading this letter and finding it ridiculous. Isn't it funny? The constant fear of other people judging you. Do you think other people feel it? Is that how everyone lives? Seems like an awful burden for everyone to carry.

I still haven't said why I'm thanking you, have I? I want to say thank you cause I can breathe better. And you're probably thinking you didn't do much, talk about ice creams, telling me you don't like chocolate, nothing that would elicit gratitude from another person, but you did, H. I guess the fact that you didn't mock me is enough for me to be grateful. I'm not hard to please, as you can see.

Am I being too dramatic? That's a question that goes through my mind several times a day. Am I supposed to feel like this? Is this how other people feel? I am pretty sure it isn't. Maybe I'm just broken, you know?

I just think I'm not supposed to feel this way. I'm supposed to be like my mom or my friends (I have a few) want me to. Like I would like myself to be. I wish I was stronger. I wish I was a bit more like those girls you see everywhere around campus (are you a student here?), smiling and dancing, enjoying their lives, cause really, what else is there? I envy them. 

For one, I'm supposed to be excited about going out with my roommate this Friday. Instead, I'm sitting here, while I'm writing this letter, frantically thinking of a suitable excuse to not do so, to stay at home, away from the crowds. Just the thought exhausts me.

I don't know. I'm supposed to go get a job this week. My mom has been insisting on it ever since I moved here. I can't quite figure out if she wants me to get it because I need it financially or emotionally. Maybe she thinks it would help me open up. I can't even imagine walking to someone and trying to convince them I'm perfect for them. 

Do you think I'm crazy? I know I sound like it. I must sound like a jumpy mouse. Maybe that's what I am. I'm still trying to figure it out.

Maybe you think I'm one of those people that sit in the dark, never talking to anyone. I gotta say, sometimes I'm like that. Sometimes, I need time to myself, so I can face the world. Other times, I feel like there's a fire that's burning my feet and I can't keep still. I feel like I can eat the world, or maybe mold it with my own hands. Sometimes I feel both in the same day. It's hard to keep up with the person I wake up being. 

I am so sorry, H. I feel like I just rambled and let out a bunch of hectic thoughts out. I probably didn't make any sense. I'm sorry to burden you with this ridiculous thoughts. Just know that wherever you are, I just hope you're okay. 

If someday we meet each other, I'll make sure to give you the longest hug ever. A hugger, I would like to be one.

Bye, H. Hope you're having a nice day.

\- E -"

****

Ella looked out of the window of the busy coffeeshop. Surely, she had to look weird. She was standing in the middle of the street, her hands tucked in the pockets of her jeans while she watched carefully what was happening inside. She could see the people sitting on the tables, wrapping their fingers around their steamy cups, as if they were looking for the comfort they could provide. She could also see the girls and boys that were waiting on them, permanent smiles etched on their faces, the cheery attitude of a person that has no problems in their lives. Ella had to wonder how hard they had had to practice that expression until it came out natural. It couldn't be easier.

Frowning, Ella counted slowly to 10. It was a great way to make herself breathe when she felt like there was no air in her lungs. There were about 2000 things Ella would rather be doing at that very moment, but still, there she was, about to enter the coffeeshop and ask for a job.

Ella knew how to talk, how to smile, how to charm, all of them qualities her mom had been very careful to instill in her when she was a child. "You are here to be heard." She said constantly and Ella would listen to her, with her eyes wide and her innocent face focused on her. She needed to be heard. But to be heard, you need to raise your voice, and that was where Ella struggled, even when she knew she had a clear voice.

In order to get to the coffeeshop, Ella had already imagined every possible scenario and had rehearsed them all. From what she was going to say when she introduce herself to how she was going to say goodbye, it was all in her head already. She had also imagined her answer for all the possible questions that the manager could ask her. There was nothing that could surprise her anymore, or at least that what she was waiting for. She was bright, she was smart, she could do this.

Ella made her way to the the counter, fiddling with the hem of the light jean jacket she had on. Despite the sun, the days had been a bit chilly and she was always cold anyway, so she had decided to pair her tank top and black jeans with a jean jacket, a braid trying to hold up in her hair. She was pretty, she was bright, she was smart. She could do this.

"Hi!" A brunette with the biggest smile Ella had ever seen greeted her from behind the counter. It had to hurt, Ella thought. "Welcome to La Marquesa Coffeeshop. Would you like to see our menu or do you already have a favorite?"

Ella's eyes widened, wondering if she would have to be that cheery and say all of those things. A heavy feeling settled on her tummy and all of the courage and confidence she had mustered up (or faked, actually) soon vanished.

"Uh, oh, Can I have a mocha?" She asked the beaming girl, who nodded and told her how much was it and to wait on the right. 

Ella walked to the right, tugging on her ponytail. She certainly didn't need the caffeine, and she didn't like coffee all that much, so she decided to turn away, giving her ticket to a girl that looked as if she was in need of a great intake of coffee, judging by the stack of books she was holding. Smiling to her, and feeling her heart beat faster, Ella made her way to the door, looking in her bag for her earbuds. Ella wasn't a fan of walking around without music. 

Ella's heart almost crawls out of her ribcage when the door swung open at the same time she was pulling it open, almost hitting her on the nose. Her eyes were wide and she stared at the tall boy in front of her, his big green eyes looking at her apologetically. Ella couldn't quite figure out if she was more anxious about the fact that the door almost smashes her face or about the fact that he had seen him before. He was the same boy that had sat by the pot the day she was sitting by the tree, guarding her letter against strangers eyes. Had he seen it? Had he read it?

"I'm so sorry." He said with a smile, his British accent catching Ella off guard. "I didn't see you there. Are you alright?"

"Yes." Ella tried not to squeak, still watching him intently. "Yes, I'm alright."

He nodded politely, going to reunite with his friends that had found a table already. Ella followed him with her eyes and she brought a hand to her chest, feeling her heart still drumming against her chest. Closing her eyes, Ella took a big breath, her mind rushing with ideas, thoughts, questions and plans. Without thinking much, Ella turned to the counter, walking to where the beaming girl was taking the order of a jogger. 

"Hi." Ella said, placing her hands on the counter and calling the girl's attention. 

"Oh, hi. Gimme a sec." She said, before turning with a smile to the jogger. Once she had finished, she muttered a excuse, telling the next costumer she was going to take a second, and to please take a cookie for the disturbance. "Hi."

"I'm so sorry to bother you."

"Don't worry, but hurry up."

"Are you looking for help?" Ella rushed, looking at the girl who frowned for a second, before recovering her smile.

"Yes!! We actually are! One of the boys just quit cause he needs to focus on his dissertation. Are you looking for a job?"

"Yes, I am. Do you, do you think I have a chance?"

"Of course you do, and we're swamped. Let me call my manager."

****

\- Harry - 

Late. I was late and I wasn't going to hear the end of it. Louis was one of those people that could be as late as he pleased, but no one could make him wait, or he would throw a fit. 

A loud car's honk was heard on the street and I turned to it, almost expecting to find a red pick up truck with loud flames painted on the doors. Instead, a red Mercedes was rushing through the street, the lady that was almost run over still clutching her chest in surprise. 

I looked into the coffeeshop, already spotting Louis and Niall sitting on a table in the far corner. We were supposed to meet there, cause in the frat house there was always too much noise, to start figuring out what we were supposed to do with the big project we had been assigned this morning in our shared class. But of course, Louis was already a step ahead of me, Zayn, who had taken the class last semester slouching lazily on the couch. Sophie, Maddie and Kim were also sitting there, a big smile on Kim's face while she looked at Zayn with heart eyes.

I pushed the door carelessly, the small screech the girl let out almost going unnoticed by me. She looked surprised and almost scared and I quickly looked down at her, making sure I hadn't spilled any hot coffee or anything. It would be a pain if I did.

A strange feeling I had seen her somewhere settled in me, and I almost felt the need to ask her name, trying to figure out why exactly she looked familiar. I wish I could sleep better, maybe that way I would have a better memory.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't see you there. Are you alright?" I asked her and I saw her pink lips starting to move, as if she wanted to form a word that would refuse to leave her mouth. 

"Yes. Yes, I'm alright." She said in a nice, soothing voice. It was calmed and shy, a nice combination for a girl like her. I don't think I've ever thought anything like this, but there was something in her that made me want to look at her, to remember her for the next time I saw her. I nodded, smiling at her before walking away. Funny thing, I could feel her eyes following me while I made my way to my friends. Even funnier thing, I couldn't stop smirking at this fact.

"Thank you for coming. It's truly appreciated." Louis told me, glaring at me as I took my seat by Niall's side.

"Stop being a cunt, Lou." I warned him.

"So, can we start?" Zayn asked. "I have things to do, ya know?"

"Actually, I need a coffee." I said, smirking when I got up from the chair and saw Louis rolling his eyes. One time, I got locked out of the frat house when we were the only ones that were left during holidays, and he had made me wait for 45 minutes before he decided to show up. He could wait while I got my coffee.

Waiting in line, I realized the girl was still in the coffeeshop, this time talking in whispers to one of the baristas that soon left to walked into the private room behind the counter. The girl slouched her shoulders, as if a big breath had come out of her lungs now that she was alone, and she started fiddling with one napkin, shredding it to pieces while she waited for something. 

I looked at her with interest. The queue wasn't going anywhere anyway, and I realized she had big eyes and long eyelashes and her lips puckered up a little when she started mumbling silent words. I had to look like a creep, the way I was looking at her, but I didn't seem able to stop doing it. Her eyebrows furrowed a little and her chest heaved, her eyes flicking to the queue as if she was looking for something. Maybe she was looking for me, feeling like she was being watched. 

A guy soon came to stand in front of her. He was tall and his hair was in a quiff, a black tattoo that looked like chevrons peeking out of his white shirt. She smiled at him and they interchanged words, leaving her nodding and looking at him with interest. 

The queue started moving again and when it was finally my turn, they were still talking, and he gave her a piece of paper, her fingers scribbling away something while he leaned on the counter. I saw the smile that appeared on his face when she looked at him, giving him the piece of paper before giving him a bright smile on her own. 

Distractedly, I ordered for a tea and a coffee, wanting to make peace with Louis. He was a piece of shit, but still, he was one of my best friends. I just kept watching while she talked to the guy, who was now completely leaning on the counter while she looked at him with wide eyes, nodding from time to time and giggling at the stuff he was saying. 

"Sir?" The beaming girl behind the counter offered me two cups and I took them, smiling tightly at her before I walked to my table. It was a shame, I lost sight of the girl.

****

No, I don't know if it was curiosity or simple concern what made me walk to the pot that afternoon. Maybe it was both. I'm usually very curious and concerned, the need to know things and figure out solutions a common feeling in me. 

I sat on the bench, stretching my legs before I let my eyes drift to the pot. I was kind of ridiculous when you think about it, my fingers itching to reach the piece of white paper that was half hidden in the pot. Had E been there? Was this a fucking social experiment and was I playing the part of the naive subject?

I finally let my fingers grasp the sheet, tucking it out of its place and unfolding it with careful fingers. It had to be a girl, the way the words were carefully written in the cheery and neat purple letters.

"Dear H:

"I cannot believe I am going to discuss the clear superior taste of the chocolate."


End file.
